


Complicity

by lalejandra



Category: lotrips
Genre: Gen, Photography, Transformative Works Welcome, Vanity, self-obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-14
Updated: 2004-03-14
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: i don't fool myself like i fool you.(--ani difranco)





	Complicity

"Don't you ever feel weird?" asks Viggo.

"What do you mean?" replies Elijah.

"I'm not sure," lies Viggo, who knows exactly what he means and just isn't positive that he wants to say it out loud.

*

The Viggo in the mirror isn't the same as the Viggo on celluloid, film, or newsprint. The Viggo in the mirror doesn't have hours of makeup, or a stylist following him everywhere, or someone constantly making sure that there's powder over the shiny places on his face.

He doesn't like to watch his own movies, because then he can't help but think about what kind of life he's leading. He acts to buy paint, or so he used to think; he doesn't _need_ to be an actor anymore, so why is he? Maybe he wouldn't act if he didn't love it at least as much as he loves to sing, but he doesn't love to sing as much as he loves to watch other people sing, and he doesn't like to watch people act.

When people act at Viggo, outside of on set and sometimes rehearsals, he gets annoyed. And this annoyance really disturbs him, because why does he care what other people do? He hates that he lets other people affect him -- in positive ways _and_ in negative ways. He doesn't want them to affect him at all.

But that is a stupid thing to feel most of the time, because if other people didn't affect him, how would he love them? If he didn't love them, why would he care?

Would it be easier if he didn't care about Elijah? Maybe. It would also definitely make his life less interesting. Does he want his life to be interesting? Maybe.

Why does everything always circle back around somehow to Elijah?

*

"I don't think -- we should be -- doing this," says Viggo.

"What do you mean?" replies Elijah. He shifts his weight so that more of his body is pressing down on Viggo's, so that more of his skin is glued to Viggo's skin by their sweat. "I mean. Man, this is a weird time to have this conversation. Since when do you care about what we ought to be doing?"

"I know," says Viggo, and leaves it at that, because Elijah is moving, and he doesn't need to think about it. He just needs to be where he is; everything else can come later.

*

Viggo doesn't want to be that person on film. He doesn't want to be the guy in interviews. He's just not sure how to stop. He's not sure why he bothers, why he acts like he's someone else, although he has his theories. After all, before he goes to an interview, his manager stops by with a stylist and pokes and prods until he looks carefully disheveled. What a fucking stupid question to ask. Obviously he doesn't dress for going out the same way he dresses for staying home.

"No more caftans," said his agent. "No more fucking T-shirts with slogans."

Viggo thought about fighting, but why bother? He might as well give in, and do what they want. So he pretends to be that man, the person they want him to be.

He's come to the conclusion that he really does enjoy acting, enjoys throwing himself into a role. Viggo can play the role of Viggo better than anyone else. Maybe that's why Elijah is attracted to him _now_ ; Elijah is usually so empty, he's only attracted to people who are also empty. Viggo would speculate that this is why Dom and Elijah were together for so long, and now are apart; maybe Dom is no longer empty enough for Elijah.

*

Elijah's voice is just a breath of air against Viggo's cheek. "Sometimes I feel like I might as well be masturbating, since you're never here when you're fucking me."

Viggo keeps his eyes closed.

*

Viggo realizes that the more he thinks about other people, the more he thinks in a linear fashion, and the less he paints. He stops thinking about other people, stops answering his telephone, stops looking at old pictures of Orlando, stops letting Elijah into his house -- and suddenly he's painting again, and writing again.

This pisses him off, too, because that means he's just as linear as the next guy. Suddenly nothing is circling back around to Elijah -- it's circling around to how much he fakes himself out.

*

Elijah is pounding on his door. "Viggo, I know you're in there because you were just on the phone with Dom! Open up!

*

Elijah is pounding on his door. "Viggo! Viggo! Open the goddamn door, Viggo!"

*

Elijah is pounding on his door. "You fucking rat bastard motherfucker! Let me in!"

*

Elijah is pounding on his door. "Viggo, I'm going to call _Star_ and they're going to take a picture of me carving your name into my chest if you don't open this fucking door!"

Viggo opens the door when he sees Elijah through the kitchen window, scowling and brandishing a razor blade in one hand, his cell phone in the other.

*

Elijah is prowling around his kitchen. "What the fucking fuck?" he asks.

"What?" replies Viggo. Sullenly, maybe. How horrible -- suddenly he's fifteen again. Did he act like this at fifteen? He can't remember.

"You're wearing a goddamn caftan," snaps Elijah. He's furious; Viggo can tell because his movements are jerky. Click-whoosh. Click-whoosh, the suck-in of air, the crackle of paper, the pop of lips. Viggo wants Elijah to light cigarettes for ten or fifteen minutes on tape; he doesn't want to loop it.

Viggo wants to think that Elijah looks like a young Brando, but he doesn't -- he just looks like Elijah: kind of dumb, kind of young, kind of sexy in a weird way.

Viggo rubs his finger along his camera; he pulled it out to take pictures of the dust that flies off TJ's coat when Viggo brushes him down, and never put it away.

"Well?" says Elijah, and blows smoke into Viggo's face. That's too obvious to be a metaphor, but Viggo thinks he can make it work for something anyway.

"Well?" replies Viggo.

"What the fucking fuck?" Elijah kicks one of the cabinets, and Viggo decides he wants to photograph him in all the poses Brando did for press photos when he was Elijah's age.

"What?" says Viggo, blinking the smoke out of his eyes.

  



End file.
